A Very Sherlock Crossover
by tipthecabbie2.0
Summary: John H. Watson and Harry J. Potter always knew that they were different from the other children in their neighborhood, and Sherlock Holmes always knew that he was different from most children his age. No romantic pairings. DISCONTINUED.
1. Chapter 1

A VERY SHERLOCK CROSSOVER, CHAPTER ONE

JOHN H. WATSON KNEW from a very young age that he was different from his sister Harriet, and all of the other children who lived in Little Whinging where John, Harriet, and their parents lived in Number 6, Privet Drive, between the Coxes in Number 8, whom his mother got on rather well with, and the Dursleys in Number 4, whom nobody got on well with.

John, however, was the only friend of Harry Potter, who had the misfortune of living with the Dursleys. Harry and John realized around the age of four or five that they could both do things that other children couldn't, and so, when, at the age of 11, they received their acceptance letters to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, they shared their enthusiasm and worries with each other.

John's parents had accepted Harry as their son, and provided some of the enthusiasm they knew Harry would never get from his aunt and uncle. And so, when Rubeus Hagrid came to take Harry to Diagon Alley to buy his supplies for school, John insisted on going with them. When the time came to purchase their wands, John and Harry walked into Ollivander's to find that he was already helping a rather tall boy with unruly black curls and ice-blue eyes to find his wand.

"Here you go, Mr. Holmes, Ash, Dragon Heartstring, 7 inches precisely, not particularly flexible… here, have a go. Sherlock swished the wand quickly and all of the wand boxes dusted themselves off and rearranged themselves in a much more orderly fashion. Mr. Ollivander smiled knowingly at Sherlock, and said, "7 galleons, please, Mr. Holmes, and do please give my regards to your family. It's no difficult task to see that you're going to do extraordinary things with this wand. Use it wisely."

He then turned to John and Harry. "Ah, Mr. Potter, I was wondering when you'd come around. And who is this with you?" "John Watson, sir." "Well, just sit there and I'll help you in just a moment, Mr. Watson." John went and sat in one of two ancient-looking spindly wooden chairs in front of the shop window, and Sherlock Holmes sat in the other.

"I can't believe my parents are making me wait here until they get back from getting Mycroft's new robes…" he muttered to himself. "Hello," came a small voice from the chair next to him.

He turned to face the rather small boy who must be his age if he was in here for the first time. Sandy blonde hair, dark blue eyes, muggle clothes, so he must be muggle-born…

Probably his first trip to Diagon Alley. Most likely here with the very unintelligent seeming boy that Ollivander was currently helping, and they couldn't be here alone, though he couldn't currently see an authority figure near here…

He faintly recalled Mycroft telling him about Hagrid, the groundskeeper, sometimes helping to get first-year muggle-borns' supplies… that must be it then, Sherlock thought.

"So, where are you from? Surrey, judging by your accent, I should think? And who's that boy you came with? He seems familiar… oh, I'm Sherlock Holmes, by the way." "John Watson, I'm from Little Whinging, and that's Harry Potter that I came with."

A few seconds passed in a strangely non-awkward silence. "You should really tell your parents about that boy in your neighbourhood who beats you up. It's obvious that it's going to start effecting your self confidence soon if it doesn't stop. Are you in your first year as well? Or have you gone and broken your wand? Not that it matters much. You'll be in Hufflepuff, by the way. Most of my family's in Slytherin, so I expect that's where I'll be as well… how dull. Your friend there will be in Gryffindor."

"I'm sorry, what? What are you on about, I'll be in Hufflepuff? What's a Hufflepuff?" "That's what we all ask. Hufflepuff is the house with the least glorious background. There are four houses at Hogwarts; Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, and Ravenclaw.

"They're sort of like fraternities in the sense that you will always be in the house that you are Sorted into, you sleep in a dorm with the rest of your house, and each house has its own special table in the Great Hall.

"You get sorted into your house based on what you value most, for example, if you value bravery, you will be in Gryffindor. If you valu-"

"Wait, but I value bravery! And you just said that I would be in Hufflepuff!" "I'm getting to that, if you would just wait half a second. If you value cunning and ambition, you will be in Slytherin. If you value knowledge, you will be in Ravenclaw. And if you value loyalty, you will be in Hufflepuff.

"Harry Potter is a shoo-in for Gryffindor after his encounter with Voldemort, but you've never really been the one to tell off the muggle bullies, have you? It's always been your friends, and for that, you are completely and unquestioningly loyal to them. You're also particularly good at finding things.

"Ah, here's Mycroft. I hope that we can talk again, Watson." At that moment, Harry found his wand (Holly, 11", phoenix tail feather core, reasonably pliant), and Mr. Ollivander waved John over to find his.

After about ten failed attempts, he found the wand that had chosen him: a redwood wand, 8 ¾", phoenix feather core, surprisingly swishy.

They paid Mr. Ollivander for their wands and went to wait in front of the shop for Hagrid, who appeared in front of the store with two animal cages: A birdcage with a snowy owl perched inside for Harry, and a wire cat carrier with a sleek black cat lying in it for John.

September the first couldn't come fast enough for Harry and John. After learning that John had also received a letter from Hogwarts, Harry had promptly been locked in his cupboard for the remainder of the summer, and forbidden to see John until school started.

John's parents offered to drive Harry down to King's Cross with them when they took John, and so it happened that at 7:00 in the morning on September first, Harry left Number 4, Privet Drive without waking the Dursleys and loaded his trunk into the back of the Watsons' station wagon and left Privet drive with his best friend, ready for the first full year of his life without the Dursleys. In the confusion at King's Cross, the Watsons lost Harry on the bridge between platform 3 and 4, not noticing until it was five minutes to eleven o'clock, and was therefore too late to go back for him.

John made his way down the length of the train, looking first for Harry, then, after finding him in conversation with a gangly-looking redheaded boy, looking for a spare seat in a compartment. He made his way to the very last student compartment, after being turned away everywhere else, poked his head in, and found that it was occupied by none other than Sherlock Holmes. "D'ya mind?" "No, of course not, please sit," the raven-haired boy said dismissively, waving John into the seat opposite before staring out of the window with eyes narrowed and fingers steepled under his chin. He took a deep breath and shook himself out of whatever he had been thinking of, turning to John. ``So, Watson, I've been thinking. I don't really like very many people at all, and I've never really met anybody my age who wasn't completely stupid, but I feel like you're less stupid than most of the people that I've met. I don't know why, but you intrigue me, and I'd like very much to get to know you better." "You know, you don't have to be so formal about it, you know, you could just say that you want to be friends." "I don't have _friends,_" Sherlock sneered, the slightest bit of sadness betraying his voice at the last possible moment. "You do now. Call me John, okay? I'm not really used to being called by last name." "Okay, then, John. I suppose you should call me Sherlock, though most people just call me 'Freak'." "Why?" "I can deduce things about people by looking at them. Often people think I'm using magic, but I'm not; I'm just noticing, observing, if you will. For instance, I could tell when we first met in Ollivander's that you were Muggle-born; that you were from an upper-middle-class neighbourhood in Surrey; That you had had more than a few fallings-out with the neighbourhood bullies and that you are trying to live up to your older brother's reputation, he's going to med school; That you had had a much easier time than most muggle-born wizards in believing that the wizarding world is real; and that the only reason why you came that day, and not the week later, was so that the boy you came in with wouldn't have to be alone." "How did you…?" "You were wearing muggle clothes, not a strange thing in itself, but they had obviously been worn before, there was slight wear on the hem of your shirt, and it was hanging as though it had been washed more than a few times. You wouldn't shop second-hand for muggle clothes, though, which brings me to your upbringing; Your accent told me Surrey, and I gathered from your speech pattern that your parents were not poor or overly rich, so, upper-middle-class. Your knuckles were slightly bruised, and there were small scars on your cheeks from when they've punched you too hard, and your nose has been broken and corrected. It was still slightly swollen at the time, however, and since the scars weren't fresh, and you would have needed somebody to fix you up without your parent's knowledge, and they did a rather good job on fixing your nose, so they must have had some form of medical training, and you've got a note just now in your pocket from somebody named Harry. Brother at med school, of course you'll try to live up to him. I could gather that these were multiple incidents over a lengthy amount of time. Your facial expression when you first came in and saw the shop showed wonder, but not disbelief. This means that you must have had a friend in your childhood who was also a muggle-raised wizard who in all probability either discovered his magic when you were present, or told you right away, and not incredibly long after that, if not before, you discovered your magic. The two of you would probably have practised together or talked about it a lot, as you thought for all of your life prior to this that you were muggles, though of course you wouldn't know the term yet. Judging by your conversation when you were entering, you had known the boy you were with for quite some time, which lead me to believe that he was the friend with whom you had discovered your magic. A friend like that, you wouldn't let him go into the magic world alone before you and discover everything without you, he'd have had far too much fun without you. It's simple observation, John, nothing that you couldn't have found out about any given person, if you took the time to notice." "Brilliant. Absolutely astonishing. Wow." "But." "But?" "Well I can't have got everything right, can I?" "My family can't do magic, I've already told you I'm from Little Whinging, I was one of the neighbourhood bullies' favourite punching bags and Harry did patch me up, the other Harry and me did discover our magic together, and we got our acceptance letters the same day. I went to Diagon Alley with Harry to keep him company, because his aunt and uncle couldn't be bothered to." "So? What did I get wrong?" "Harry, in the case of Harry Watson, is short for Harriet." "_Sister! __Sister!_ there's **always **something!" Sherlock hissed, leaning back against the back of his seat. "All right, we'd best change, we're getting close to the castle now."


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: Hey guys! How's it going? I hope I haven't screwed this up too bad! A lot of this chapter got lost, so I had to rewrite it with a great deal of the original story which I have slightly altered in places (in **__italics__**). (All Harry Potter characters, places and canon-specific things are the sole property of J.K. Rowling and her publishers around the world, which I have added to for the purposes of this story. I turn no personal profit from writing these stories. All Sherlock characters belong to Messrs Doyle and Moffat, and their associates). I also added Sam Winchester, but I have not seen Supernatural (I really just needed a character to be in Hufflepuff with John), so my portrayal of him is most likely inaccurate as it's based off of Tumblr. Rate and review please!**_

**A Very Sherlock Crossover**

**Chapter Two**

**The Sorting**

As the Hogwarts Express pulled into the station in Hogsmeade, John pressed his nose against the glass as though hoping he'd be able to see the castle from there. "Don't bother, John, you won't be able to see it yet," said Sherlock, as though he could read John's mind while straightening his tie. "Let's wait till most of the rest have cleared off before we try to get onto the platform." John nodded and made to pull his luggage from the wire rack above his head. "Oh, don't bother with that, the house-elves get them for us, it'll be next to your bed when you go to your dorm tonight." "Oh. Okay, then. Is that a raven? I thought we could only have owls, cats, and toads!" "Well, generally yes, but I put him down as an owl, he carries my letters." By now, there were only a few prefects still on the train. "All right, Sherlock, we'd best head off." "Alright."

As John and Sherlock stepped off of the train, Sherlock nearly walked into Hagrid. "Firs' years! Firs' years, follow me! Come on! Firs' years!" They started off down the well-travelled road, heading toward the lake. Harry ran up behind John. "John! Here you are! I was worried you got lost! This is Ron, he says his whole family are wizards and witches! Who's this with you?" "This is Sherlock, he says all his family are wizards too! I wonder how many families are like that?" Sherlock interjected. "Not very many. There's us Holmeses, the Malfoys, the Moriarties, the Weasleys, (here Ron piped up: "That's me!") and a small handful of others, though a whole lot of them, like the Blacks, went bad when Voldemort came to power. Mum says that Sirius Black used to be really nice, but of course he turned out… well, not in the nicest way."

By this time, they had reached the edge of the lake. "Look up, now, yeh' should be gettin' yer firs' look a' the castle," came Hagrid's booming voice. The four boys looked up, and all except Sherlock's jaws fell slack. There, across the lake, was a gigantic and magnificent castle with innumerable towers and turrets. "All righ', now, no more'n four to a boat, go on, get in." The four boys clambered into one of the boats, and it started gliding across the smooth surface of the lake. Once or twice, Harry nudged John's arm and pointed into the inky depths where he swore there had been a giant tentacle a scant second earlier. Each time, Sherlock would roll his eyes and hiss, "It's only the giant squid, stop making such a fuss."

_When they reached the castle, Hagrid knocked three times on the great oak door that led into the Entrance Hall. Moments later, a severe-looking woman with black hair and square glasses opened the door. "Thank-you, Hagrid, I'll take them from here," she said before turning to the students. "Welcome to Hogwarts. My name is Professor McGonagall. If you would follow me," she instructed, before leading the first-years up a short flight of stairs, stopping in front of another set of great wooden doors_.

"_Now, in a few moment, you shall pass through these doors, and you shall be sorted into your houses. The four houses are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin, and each house has its own illustrious history. While you are here, your house will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn you points; any rule breaking, and you will lose points. At the end of the school year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, which is a great honour. Now wait here, I shall return when we are ready for you."_

_Almost as soon as the doors closed behind her, a blonde, pale boy with a pointed nose stepped up behind Harry. "So it's true then. What they were saying on the train. Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts. This is Crabbe, Goyle, and Moriarty. And I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy." Ron and Sherlock sniggered here. Malfoy turned on them, surveyed them, and decided not to pick on Sherlock. "You think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask yours. Red hair, and a hand-me-down robe? You must be a Weasley. And you, Holmes. I would expect better of you, seeing as your brother was just made prefect of Slytherin. I would have hoped that we would get on better, us purebloods have to stick together!" Here he shot a look at John, before turning again to Harry. "You'll soon learn that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go around making friends with the wrong sort." he extended his hand toward Harry. "I can help you there." "I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks." _

_At that moment, Professor McGonagall returned. "We're ready for you now." she said, turning to lead them into the Great Hall. _

_John had never even imagined such a strange and splendid place. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting._

_Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Harry_

_looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. He heard_

_A bushy-haired girl whisper, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts; A History." "Yes, that's wonderful, now if you would tell us something we don't know, that would be wonderful." came Sherlock's hiss._

_Harry quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed_

_a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she_

_put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and_

_extremely dirty. Aunt Petunia wouldn't have let it in the house._

_Maybe they had to try and get a rabbit out of it, John thought wildly,_

_that seemed the sort of thing - noticing that everyone in the hall was_

_now staring at the hat, he stared at it, too. For a few seconds, there_

_was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened_

_wide like a mouth - and the hat began to sing:_

_"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_if you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

_The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It_

_bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again._

_"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to Harry. "I'll_

_kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."_

_John smiled weakly. Yes, trying on the hat was a lot better than_

_having to do a spell, but he did wish they could have tried it on_

_without everyone watching. The hat seemed to be asking rather a lot;_

_John didn't feel brave or quick-witted or any of it at the moment. If_

_only the hat had mentioned a house for people who felt a bit queasy,_

_that would have been the one for him._

_Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of_

_parchment._

_"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to_

_be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"_

_A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the_

_hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moments pause_

_"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat._

_The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at_

_the Hufflepuff table. Harry saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving_

_merrily at her._

_"Bones, Susan!"_

_"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next_

_to Hannah._

_"Boot, Terry!"_

_"RAVENCLAW!"_

_The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws_

_stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them._

_" Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender"_

_became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded_

_with cheers; Harry could see Ron's twin brothers catcalling._

_"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was Harry's_

_imagination, after all he'd heard about Slytherin, but he thought they_

_looked like an unpleasant lot. He was starting to feel definitely sick_

_now. He remembered being picked for teams during gym at his old school._

_He had always been last to be chosen, not because he was no good, but_

_because no one wanted Dudley to think they liked him._

_"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"_

_"HUFFLEPUFF!"_

_Sometimes, Harry noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at_

_others it took a little while to decide. "Finnigan, Seamus," the_

_sandy-haired boy next to Harry in the line, sat on the stool for almost_

_a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor._

_"Granger, Hermione!"_

_Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head._

_"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat. Ron groaned._

_Then "Holmes, Sherlock." was called. The hat took nearly two full minutes to choose, before Sherlock suddenly shouted, "OH, COME ON! JUST PICK ALREADY!"_

"_RAVENCLAW!" _

_A horrible thought struck Harry, as horrible thoughts always do when_

_you're very nervous. What if he wasn't chosen at all? What if he just_

_sat there with the hat over his eyes for ages, until Professor_

_McGonagall jerked it off his head and said there had obviously been a_

_mistake and he'd better get back on the train?_

_When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called,_

_he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide_

_with Neville. When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran off_

_still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it_

_to "MacDougal, Morag."_

_Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at_

_once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"_

_He was followed closely by "Moriarty, Jim." who was apparently very difficult to place; the hat took almost as long with him as he had with Sherlock, and his annoyance was apparent on his face. The hat seemed almost hesitant to shout, "SLYTHERIN!"_

_Malfoy and Moriarty went to join their friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with_

_themselves._

_There weren't many people left now. "Moon" "Nott" "Parkinson" then a_

_pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil," Harry was sorted into Gryffindor, and before he knew it, "Watson, John." was being called. _

_The last thing John saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was Harry giving him a thumbs-up. Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited. "Hmm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty_

_of courage, I see. Unwavering loyalty. There's talent, my goodness,_

_yes - and a nice thirst to prove yourself, to prove that you're not just the useless friend…now that's interesting..._

_So where shall I put you?"_

"_anywhere but Slytherin."_

"_All right… If you're sure… HUFFLEPUFF!"_

John handed the hat back to Professor McGonnegal and practically fled to the Hufflepuff. He was vaguely aware of Harry's new redheaded friend being sorted into Gryffindor, and a boy named Sam Winchester being sorted into Hufflepuff with him.

_He could see the High Table properly now. At the end nearest him sat_

_Hagrid, who caught his eye and gave him the thumbs up. John grinned_

_back. And there, in the center of the High Table, in a large gold chair,_

_sat Albus Dumbledore. Harry recognized him at once from the card he'd_

_gotten out of the Chocolate Frog on the train. Dumbledore's silver hair_

_was the only thing in the whole hall that shone as brightly as the_

_ghosts. John spotted Professor Quirrell, too, the nervous young man_

_from the Leaky Cauldron. He was looking very peculiar in a large purple_

_turban._

_Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students,_

_his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to_

_see them all there._

_"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin_

_our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit!_

_Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!_

_"Thank you!"_

_He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. John didn't know_

_whether to laugh or not._

_"Is he - a bit mad?" he asked a boy a few years above him uncertainly._

_"Mad?" said the boy (who later introduced himself as Cedric Diggory) airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, John?"_

_John's mouth fell open. The dishes in front of him were now piled with_

_food. He had never seen so many things he liked to eat on one table:_

_roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon_

_and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding,_

_peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint_

_humbugs._

_"That does look good," said a rotund ghost, watching John cut up his steak, "Can't you-?" "I haven't eaten for nearly four hundred years," said the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced_

_myself? Robert Stafford at your service. Most call me The Fat Friar, however. Resident ghost of Hufflepuff."_

_When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food_

_faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment_

_later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavour you_

_could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam_

_doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding…_

_John, who was starting to feel warm and sleepy after apple pie and vanilla ice-cream, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin._

_"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked Cedric. "Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to - everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape." At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent. "Ahern - just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you._

_"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of a pair of identical boys with red hair not unlike Ron's. "I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. "Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. "And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death." John laughed, but he was one of the few who did. "He's not serious?" he muttered to Cedric. "Must be," said Cedric, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere - the_

_forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that." "And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Harry noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed._

_Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a_

_fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose_

_high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words._

_"Everyone pick their favourite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"_

_And the school bellowed:_

_"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_

_Teach us something please,_

_Whether we be old and bald_

_Or young with scabby knees,_

_Our heads could do with filling_

_With some interesting stuff,_

_For now they're bare and full of air,_

_Dead flies and bits of fluff,_

_So teach us things worth knowing,_

_Bring back what we've forgot,_

_just do your best, we'll do the rest,_

_And learn until our brains all rot." _

_Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the redheaded twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest. "Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot."_

The prefects then lead all of the first-years to their respective common rooms. John managed to catch Harry's eye and wave to him before he was lead left out of the Hall and down a short flight of stairs to a corridor where there were many portraits and paintings on the walls, including a painting of a bowl of fruit. "If you tickle the pear in the fruit bowl there, you can get into the kitchen," whispered the fat friar (who had just floated through the wall next to John). "The house-elves will give you any food you ask for, they're very accommodating."

The prefects stopped them as they were about to pass by a nook on the right hand side of the corridor that was seemingly home only to a large stack of ancient-looking barrels. "Now, you won't need a password to get in, like you would if you were in Gryffindor or Slytherin, all you have to do is find the barrel that's two up from the bottom, middle of the second row, and tap out the syllables of 'Helga Hufflepuff' like this:" and she tapped twice slowly, thrice quickly. "Make sure you get the right one, though, or you'll get doused in vinegar" she said as the barrel opened into a tunnel. She stooped and went in, followed by the first-years and the other prefect.

When they got out, they found themselves in possibly the most cozy little room that John had ever seen. It was circular with little half-moon windows near the ceiling showing grass and dandelions, and all around the room were scattered yellow-and-black armchairs and potted plants the likes of which John had never seen. The hearth was curved to fit the room and above the mantel was a portrait of a jolly-looking witch who smiled and waved at the first-years in greeting. The whole place was hung with burnished copper and portraits of various witches and wizards. "Boys, your dormitories are down these stairs and to the left; Girls; the same on your right. Your trunks have been placed beside beds, but I'm sure that you can arrange to have a different bed if you work it out with your dorm mates. Washrooms are down this corridor, you will find showers there. Have a good night's rest, okay?" The prefects smiled and left to their own dormitories.

John found that his dormitory was also circular, and that his four-poster bed was near one of the windows, which, like the ones in the common room, were semi-circular and near to the ceiling. He showered and changed into his pyjamas, and climbed into bed.


End file.
